Chapter 141
[ 486 words ]
Chapter 141:
Caroline heard the movement. She instantly let out another sharp, terrified sob. She scrambled backward, pressing her spine flat against the hard wooden headboard.
She pulled the torn edges of the blue shirt tighter across her chest. She kept her chin tucked down, refusing to look at him, playing the role of a hunted animal perfectly.
Jarrod’s heavy boots locked onto the carpet. He did not move another inch.
He slowly raised both of his hands in the air. He held his palms open, exposing his chest. It was a universal, tactical gesture of complete surrender.
“I will not touch you,” Jarrod promised. The usual commanding authority in his voice was completely gone, replaced by a raw, desperate pleading. “I swear to God, I will not touch a single hair on your head.”
Caroline kept her face buried in her knees. Her mind was working at lightning speed. She evaluated the tone of his voice and the physical distance he was maintaining.
His panic was absolutely genuine.
To complete the psychological test, she needed to push him out of the room. She needed to see if a man who controlled everything would willingly surrender his own territory to make her feel safe.
уо𝘶𝗿 𝗱a𝗶𝘭𝗒 𝘥𝗼𝘴𝗲 𝘰𝗳 𝗇𝗈𝘷e𝗅s 𝗈𝘯 𝗴a𝗹n𝘰𝘷e𝗹s.𝘤о𝗆
She slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and swimming with tears.
“Please,” Caroline whispered. Her voice shook heavily, thick with a nasal cry. “Get out. Please go.”
The words hit Jarrod like a physical blow to the stomach. His broad shoulders flinched violently.
A flash of pure, agonizing pain crossed his dark features.
He did not argue. He did not try to explain himself. He gave a single, stiff nod.
He turned around. His usually precise, military strides were slightly uncoordinated as he walked quickly into the massive walk-in closet.
A few seconds later, he walked back out. He was holding a thick, heavy cashmere blanket.
He walked toward the bed, but he stopped three feet away. He refused to invade her space again. He carefully placed the folded blanket on the leather footstool at the end of the mattress.
He looked at her one last time.
“It gets cold in here at night,” Jarrod said, his voice completely hollow. “Use the blanket. I will be right outside the door. If you need anything, just call my name.”
He turned on his heel. He walked out of the master bedroom without looking back.
The heavy oak door swung shut. The brass latch clicked into place with a soft, definitive sound.
The room was plunged back into absolute silence.
Caroline did not move. She maintained her defensive posture. She counted the seconds in her head. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes.
She listened for the sound of floorboards creaking or the turn of the doorknob. There was nothing.
Her tense shoulders finally dropped. She let go of the torn shirt and let out a long, heavy exhale. She reached up and wiped the cold tears off her cheeks.
She slowly uncurled her legs. She looked down at her inner thigh.
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